As Horses With Blinders We Walk Half Blind,
Hate Grows With A Fury Strong As A Flame,
Ignorance Is Traded Like A Disease,
Cruel Words Infect Every Cell In The Mind,
And Every Mind--Is In Some Type Of Cell,
Caged In A Reality That Doesn't Matter,
But Who Is To Say One Even Does?
Our Souls Are Now Clouded With Confusion,
Our Hearts Centered In Narcissistic Joy,
This City Smog Turning Us Doves,
Into Copies And Clones Of Rock Pigeons,
Twisted Smiles Surreptitiously Lurk,
In Every Corner And Every Hallway,
The Real Question Is--What Have We Become?
It May Be Chiché--Ugly In Physique,
And It May Never Ever Be Answered,
We Know We Have The Power To Change It,
To Change All This Bloodcurdling Chaos,
But I Think The Question Really Is *When Will We